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Chapter Text

Tony frowned, fingers fiddling with his cufflinks nervously as he examined himself in the mirror. He used to enjoy this part of the job, but he’d come to realize that he was easily the oldest Doll at these parties now. He knew it was just to provide a distraction as Natasha and Clint snuck in to steal whatever they’d been hired to get, but he wondered if he truly provided all the distraction he used to, especially when there were younger women with soft curves and men with muscles so sharp that they could cut a man to compare to. He stepped closer to the mirror, hand dropping to fuss with one of the buttons on his coat. Then he reached up to brush his hair back, turning to look at the gray starting to thread into it with a grimace. Should he go on a diet? Dye his hair? How long could he keep this up before he had to go back to being the silent money for the team?

“How’s my lucky charm tonight?” Bucky asked as he came up behind him. He paused with his hand halfway out to grab Tony’s hip, raising his eyebrows. “He’s not doing great, I see.”

“I’m fine,” Tony said hurriedly, dropping his hands back to his sides. He lifted them again to smooth down the front of his jacket and cursed himself for the nervous action.

Bucky stared at him with the same calculating eyes he used before a brawl, looking for weaknesses to exploit to get it over with as quickly as possible (or, on the rare occasion he actually hated somebody, how to avoid it to draw the fight out longer). Tony hated him for a moment, because he knew Bucky was going to charge on no matter how many signals he gave to back off and leave him alone. Better to just get it off his chest before Bucky went for his throat with it, Tony decided. “I just think,” he began slowly, carefully considering each word before he spoke. “That perhaps I’m… not the distraction I once was when we started this act.”

“Mm-hmm,” Bucky hummed, raising an eyebrow at him. He leaned his weight back and crossed his arms over his chest, that silent ‘go on’ that Tony always hated because it was exploiting his need to fill uncomfortable silences.

And Tony fell for it, like he always did. “I just wonder how long I can do this anymore, before we have to switch someone else in, like—like Steve, or Thor, or—Sam is very handsome, and he’s got this charming smile to go with his muscles,” he added nervously, looking back down at his cufflinks. Should he take them off? Lots of newer Dolls had started coming in street or club clothes. Perhaps the suit was a bit old-fashioned. “I’m not really—useful anymore, am I? Or I won’t be, soon.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed, both brows furrowing now.

Tony tried not to sweat with anxiety. He wished he knew Bucky as well as Steve, so he could know what that meant without having to ask. He stared at himself in the mirror, running his thumb over the edge of his beard. The suit was probably too much. He started wrestling with his cufflinks to get them off.

“Ms. Van Dyne,” Bucky said suddenly, and Tony whipped around to look at him in terror. He was holding his phone up, brightly lit speaker button pointed toward him. The number at the top was blank, but most numbers were hidden for this type of thing.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Janet Van Dyne’s tinny voice replied.

Bucky let his eyes trail up Tony’s body slowly, lingering for a moment on his waist, then said, “My boy thinks he’s not pretty enough to be a doll anymore. I keep tryin’a tell him he’s perfect, but he thinks he should take off the suit and just spectate now.”

“Nooo don’t let Tony do that!” Janet wailed immediately. “He’s the only reason I host these stupid games anymore! All these new guys who keep showing up with Dolls showing off their goods already—Tony is the only one who knows how to have a really good time!”

“He thinks he should dye his hair,” Bucky added, a sly smile finally twisting his lips as Tony shuffled awkwardly under his gaze. He hadn’t realized he was so obvious. He didn’t even remember checking his hair in front of Bucky.

“NOOO DON’T LET TONY DO THAT!” Janet wailed again, and she actually sounded like she was in tears. “Silver foxes are in! And he still has an absolute dump truck so don’t let him go on a diet either! Bucky there are three other players who tell me they only come so they can get Tony to take his clothes off don’t let him take this away from us!”

“Jan,” Tony choked out, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Jan did not let the fact she was on speaker phone and had been the whole time deter her. “Tony! You have to come, and you have to wear that new Tom Ford ensemble I saw you buy!”

“I’m wearing it,” Tony admitted, shuffling closer to the phone. He clasped his hands together to keep from fiddling with anything again. Jan made him scared of wrinkling anything, even if she wasn’t there to see it. “I just… wasn’t sure…”

“Tony you really are the only reason I host these events anymore,” Janet told him sincerely. “I know you’re sensitive but there’s no reason to be insecure. Everyone’s eyes are on you at these events. Especially since that time you stripped to show off that limited-edition silk lingerie that you stole out from under me at an auction,” she muttered, mulishness coloring her tone now.

“I look better in scarlet,” Tony replied automatically.

“WHY DO YOU THINK I’M SO MAD ABOUT THE IDEA OF YOU NOT COMING ANYMORE THEN,” Janet bellowed. Then she was back to business, stern. “You will show up, you will be the belle of the ball, and then Bucky will punch everyone who makes a lewd comment about you after you strut off the stage. Please. This is the best entertainment I get. Bucky punched Hammer in the nose last time.”

“You didn’t tell me you punch people when I leave!” Tony exclaimed, hurt, and looked up at Bucky with the doe eyes he knew he was weak to. “And you punched Hammer and didn’t tell me?!”

“I don’t want to encourage your smugness,” Bucky deadpanned immediately.

“Oh, we don’t need any encouragement, Bucky. We’re the idle rich. We have nothing else to do but be smug,” Janet told him pleasantly. “Anyway Tony, I’m glad you’re there. I’ve been leaving red wine in the vault for Clint and Natasha, but the hors d’oeuvres are fish-based this time, so I was thinking a nice bottle of chardonnay?”

“Clint and Natasha are heathens who wouldn’t know how to pair wine with an old boot, so just leave them what you think is best,” Tony answered, scowling, because he still wasn’t over watching Clint and Natasha dump ice cubes into the glasses of Leroy Musigny he’d poured for them, even if he had watched them choke when he told them it was a forty-five thousand dollar bottle.

Bucky stared at him, face blank. Tony blinked back at him innocently. He got the feeling that Janet was doing the same thing he was on the other line.

Finally, Bucky said, “Janet knows we’re stealing from her.”

“I’m not fucking stupid! Tony designed my security system!” Janet scoffed. “But I figure, your team only takes on jobs that you think are worthy causes, so if you’re stealing it from me, it saves me the hassle of trying to find out whether the person who wants it is actually genuine. Tony usually gives me a head’s up so I can have my security guards focus on other things.”

“Please tell me that you’re fucking with me right now,” Bucky begged, emotion finally creeping into his voice. It was too bad it was despair, Tony thought, because he thought that the deal he had going with Janet was actually pretty good.

“What part of ‘I only throw these parties to strip Tony’ wasn’t fucking clear, Barnes?” Janet hissed. “I throw these parties to strip Tony and that’s it. You wiping the table with everyone once you’ve gotten Tony down to his underwear is just a bonus, because these other idiots are too stupid to realize you’re counting cards.” Her voice went pleasant again. “Since I’ve probably successfully reassured you, can I get a sneak preview of what you’re wearing under your undershirt and slacks?”

“Lace,” Tony answered over Bucky’s sputtering.

Janet sighed dreamily. “You look so good in lace. Well! I have to do some finishing touches for the party. Tell Clint to keep his salmon fingers off the glass cases. He got ham grease on one of my necklaces last time,” she added, and then the phone beeped as she hung up without a response.

“Do you mean to tell me that you let all your friends know when we’re coming to steal shit from them,” Bucky asked, and there was the anger Tony had been expecting.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “No, just Jan, and that’s because we grew up in each other’s pockets. We know we own stuff that our parents got under suspicious circumstances. Bucky, Jan is literally the only other rich person I’m actually friends with. Except Victor von Doom,” he added, mostly to himself. “Whether we’re friends or not depends on the phases of the moon and whether Mercury is in retrograde.”

Bucky made his special ‘I fucking hate rich people’ noise that was specific to when Tony said something that made him feel very, very tired. “So this isn’t a legit job?”

“Of course it’s a legit job. Jan is just helping us by drawing attention off,” Tony scoffed again. “Not only is the brooch we’re stealing going to disappear, but a very valuable prototype she was ‘holding’ for me to keep copycats off my back. ‘Tony Stark and Janet Van Dyne can’t be in on the theft ring,’” he added in that mocking voice he used specifically for other rich people. “‘Didn’t you see they had those things stolen too? And what’s worse, Stark’s couldn’t even be insured.’ As if they won’t all be chomping at the bit to get their hands on my contraband prototype. Rich people are so fucking stupid, Bucky, it’s almost embarrassing to be one of them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or Steve?” Bucky asked, irritated.

Tony scowled at him. “I kind of figured it was just something everyone knew, considering Jan literally leaves a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a bottle of wine in the vault for Clint and Natasha and turns the cameras off. They’re not stupid, either, so they had to know Jan was on our side. Why else would Clint be clumsy enough to leave ham grease on a necklace, unless he was comfortable? Anyway, now that I’ve been reassured,” he continued when Bucky’s glare did not ease. He began power-walking past him. “I need to go do some makeup, just a little eyeliner to make my eyes pop, nothing big—”

“You’re telling Steve,” Bucky said, hand clamping around his wrist, and turned to drag him to the living room of the suite they were renting.

“Aw, come on, this isn’t my fault,” Tony begged. He considered going deadweight, but Bucky hadn’t said anything about canceling the engagement, and he’d hate to get the Tom Ford dirty before Jan could see him in it.

“Steve’s in charge, you know everything, you’re telling him,” Bucky told him firmly.

“Telling me what,” Steve asked as Tony grumbled about being the money behind the team, so he should really be the one in charge, even if he did like the way Bucky’s eye twitched whenever he called Steve ‘boss.’ “What’s going on?”

Tony considered lying. He really did. Then he could run while Bucky was doing that thing where he bellowed like a wounded animal and paced the floor trying to decide if it was something to scold him for. Ultimately, he decided not to, because he was feeling good about being a Doll again and he wanted to ride that high until next time, when he’d doubtlessly feel self-conscious again. “Jan is in on the jobs we do at her place,” he said.

Steve stared at him. He stared back. He noticed Natasha getting up from where she’d been sprawled in the window seat and slinking back toward her room. Clint had rolled under a couch and had probably disappeared; disappearing was one of his skills, after all.

“What the fuck does that mean,” Steve began, standing, and both Tony and Natasha bolted back to their rooms and locked the doors. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN,” Steve shouted, and then, “Clint did you just roll out from under the couch and fucking bite me?!”

Tony promised himself to get Clint something shiny for taking one for the team as he locked himself in the bathroom for extra measure. They’d have to leave for the job soon. Then Steve would be too distracted to ask for details, and he’d be too tired after the job to yell.

Chapter Text

“You didn’t even let me show off,” Tony grumbled, scowling, as he worked his cuff links free of his sleeves. “What’s the point of getting dolled up if I can’t flaunt it?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face tiredly. “Doll, as much as I like showin’ you off, there’s something just a little off-putting about getting you naked when Hammer’s sittin’ next to me and pantin’ after you like a dog.”

Tony paused, fingers lingering on the sleeve of his jacket. He had to work past the rush of heat that filled him at the hint of Bucky’s Brooklyn drawl coming forward in his annoyance, focusing carefully on the words he’d said instead of how he’d said them. It was a struggle. Finally, he managed to ask, “…Justin Hammer was there? I thought Jan had banned him.”

“Invited himself along with someone else Jan wanted to impress, apparently,” Bucky answered, smiling reluctantly as Tony tipped his head, clearly considering whether it made him feel better or worse. He waited a beat, then added, “If it helps, when Jan realized I stopped folding my hands, she visibly started plotting his death.”

Tony thought about it a moment longer, then turned, smiling widely. “Well, if that’s the only reason you didn’t get me naked on stage—”

“Tony. Everyone wants you naked as soon as you step on stage,” Bucky deadpanned. “Especially since that one time you were wearing that red lace under your suit and the newbie next to me dropped his beer in his lap.” He crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows at him. “Did I deprive the world at large of something beautiful again? Is that why you’re mad?”

Tony rolled his eyes with a fond shake of his head. “I’ve got some panties on, but that’s it. It was just going to be a nice surprise once I was almost naked.” He leaned back against the edge of the bed, eyelids falling to half mast as he looked up at him. “I could put something else on, if you wanted me to.”

It was tempting, but Bucky wasn’t someone who was unable to appreciate the finer points of Tony’s body. And he hadn’t gotten to strip him for the crowd like he wanted to, the disappointment and anger still simmering in his belly as he remembered Hammer sighing to his companions as if he knew Tony intimately. He’d had been about to fold a full house. Tony was about to lose his shirt. And then Hammer had groaned about how much he wanted to see Tony’s skin, and he’d slapped down his winning hand immediately. On the bright side, it seemed like Jan would clothesline Hammer the next time she saw him.

“Nah,” he finally said, eyes lingering as they roamed up and down Tony’s body. “But if you really want a show, far be it from me to tell you no.”

Tony blinked up at him, confused, then smirked. “Oh? So you’re relegating me to common stripper?”

“There’s not a single thing common about you,” Bucky scoffed. He started to approach the bed, then thought better of it, instead changing his direction to go sit in Tony’s comfy armchair. He waved at Tony once he was comfortable, motioning at his suit. “Well, show me what you were going to make the other guys watch. Take it off. Slowly,” he added when he saw Tony carelessly reaching for the collar of his shirt, as if he had no idea how hot him taking his clothes off actually was now that the only audience he had was Bucky.

Tony blinked again, lips parting in genuine surprise as his fingers curled into a fist at his chest. He took a moment to steady himself against the bed, then offered Bucky the winning smile he’d given the crowd as he’d stepped onto the stage. “You’re being bossy. I like when you’re bossy.”

“I’ll remember that,” Bucky promised, and Tony reached up to casually unknot his tie, as if he had all the time in the world. He slid it from his collar, then very deliberately dropped it on the ground. Bucky shifted in his chair. He’d never admit it (and Tony apparently already knew), but he loved how careless Tony got with his clothes when sex was promised, especially when he was wearing his expensive stuff. Like Bucky’s pleasure mattered more than the care of his clothes. It sent a warm thrum through him that was only partially arousal.

Tony shrugged off his jacket easily, dropping it to the floor with his tie. He reached up for the top button of his shirt, flicking it open and pulling the fabric so Bucky finally got to see his chest. “So, what were we stealing this time?”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Bucky answered, watching Tony’s expert fingers work button after button until he reached his slacks. He waited for Tony to pull his shirt free, maybe even unbutton his pants, but then he realized that Tony’s hands had very deliberately fallen lax at his sides. He shook his head, amused, and finally lifted his gaze to meet Tony’s unimpressed stare. “Recovering some compromising pictures from Doom.”

Tony frowned, even as he lifted his hands to tug his shirt free of his pants. “Oh. Victor isn’t usually one to… for whom?”

“Susan Storm,” Bucky answered easily. Tony would just worm it out of him later if he didn’t.

“…Hmm,” Tony hummed, beginning to shoulder out of his shirt.

“Leave the shirt on. I wanna fuck you in it,” Bucky cut in. “Also why hmm? I always get nervous when you hmm. What do you know?”

Tony pulled his shirt back on agreeably and instead made his way over to where Bucky was sat, putting his foot on his lap. “Be useful and untie my shoes. My stab wound’s still healing.”

Bucky moved to untie his shoe, frowning up at him. “What stab wound? Were you attacked? You’re dropping a lot of information here, pal—”

“Dum-E accidentally ran into me full-force with a screwdriver,” Tony scoffed, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I’m fine. It’s more of a bruise than an actual stab wound and just makes bending over hurt at the end of a day.” He watched Bucky slide his shoe off gratefully and waited a beat to see if he’d help with his sock. Then he rolled his eyes when Bucky simply snapped his sock garter and gave him a lecherous smile.  “Such a horndog.”

“What was that hmm for, sugar lips?” Bucky deadpanned as Tony shifted so his other foot was in his lap, picking the shoelaces loose slowly as he waited for his answer.

“Well, I mean, Victor isn’t really the type to blackmail. Okay,” he sighed when Bucky raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “So he is. But not Susan. She’d kill him the minute he tried. And she doesn’t really have anything he wants besides her. I’m gonna call her and ask.”

Sometimes the realities of Tony being among the rich that they’d steal from really came back to bite them in the ass. Bucky still remembered when Natasha had infiltrated the company to steal something, Tony had realized, and he’d just blinked at her and said, ‘you could have just asked.’ He probably thought he could have just asked Victor von Doom for the pictures, too.

“Don’t call her,” Bucky ordered firmly, reaching for the button on Tony’s pants.

Tony slapped his hand away and took a few steps back. “No, you’ll ruin the surprise. Also, I’ll call whoever I want. We’re friends,” he added sternly. He flicked the button on his slacks open and slid his zipper down. “Besides, she’s been to the Doll parties so she knows we’re an item. It won’t be weird that I know.”

“We would all like it if you didn’t know things for plausible deniability reasons,” Bucky reminded him, but he also allowed himself to be distracted by the peek of lace he got as Tony reached inside his pants to work the inside button free. “Also Susan Storm scares Steve. So.”

“All women scare Steve,” Tony scoffed, then made a soft sound of victory as he got the button undone and the fabric spread to show off some obviously expensive white lace. “He gets real nervous whenever Pepper visits. If you keep scolding me, I’ll call Victor instead. Our on-off friendship is currently ‘on’ again.”

“Pepper scares everyone,” Bucky grumbled, mostly to himself, because Tony would just give him that really skeptical squint that he kept locked and loaded for when he fundamentally could not understand where they were coming from. Even Natasha had been nervous when Tony had first started working with them and Pepper had slanted them a cold, calculating look over her shoulder as Tony extolled their virtues.

Luckily, Tony didn’t notice, and then he shimmied his hips side-to-side so that his pants fell to his knees. “Well?” he asked smugly, shuffling in an inelegant circle. Somehow, it was still one of the sexiest things Bucky had ever seen. “What do you think?”

“Cheeky,” Bucky managed, eyes locked onto the scalloped edges. ‘Cheeky’ might have been an understatement. The scalloped edge went halfway up his ass. It was like a thong parading as cheeky lingerie. Not that he minded, of course—Tony’s ass was like a peach, and it filled out the panties nicely. “Take your pants off.”

“Well, that was always the plan,” Tony answered, shimmying his hips again, and his slacks fell around his ankles. He turned to look at Bucky, spreading his arms out in a vague ‘ta-da.’ He looked like pure sex, wearing nothing but his open shirt, panties, and socks with garters. And he’d only look sexier once Bucky got to have his way with him. It was a shame no one else would see him.

Well. That was an idea. Bucky stood and approached him in three long steps, curling his hand around Tony’s bicep. “C’mere.”

“Ope,” Tony yelped as his pants tripped him up. He caught himself a few steps later, though, and he blinked up at Bucky with his best doe eyes. “Where are we going?”

“’s a shame I couldn’t show you off,” Bucky answered. He paused, then stopped walking, instead dropping to his knees. He grasped Tony’s hips before he could turn, forcing him to face away. “Actually, lemme give it a little extra.”

Tony didn’t struggle at all, even as he asked, “What does that mean, give it a little extra? That sounds ominous—”

Bucky leaned in and buried his teeth in Tony’s right cheek, the scalloped edge of his panties just skimming his top lip. Tony let out a shocked yelp, but Bucky pulled away before his instinctive swipe backward could connect with his skull. “Just so they know they shouldn’t bother us for a while,” he offered when Tony gave him an incredulous glare.

“They’ve known not to bother us after Doll parties ever since Bruce walked in and I was sitting on your face,” Tony scoffed, offended. His hand reached back to cover the bite mark. “Now I don’t know if I wanna show off.”

Bucky considered one last nip, but Tony might actually thump him, so he simply got to his feet instead. “You always wanna show off,” he retorted. He took a moment to adjust the way the hem of Tony's shirt fell over his panties, then gave his ass a fond pat. “And honestly with an ass like that, you should get to.”

Tony glanced back at his rear, frowning, even as Bucky led him to the door again. “Put a teeth mark on me… So fucking mean, no one is even going to appreciate it so I don’t understand why you did it anyway…”

“Because I’m so fucking mean,” Bucky replied cheerfully, then shoved the bedroom door open and led the way to the common area, where everyone else was still celebrating getting past Doom’s security with pizza and beer. He clapped his hands together. “Everyone, Tony is sad he didn’t get to show off.”

“I really hate when you guys do this when I’m eating,” Steve began, closing his eyes tiredly.

Natasha grabbed him by the shirt and leaned in, growling, “Don’t fucking blow this for us.” Then she released him, turning with a kind smile, which would have been terrifying, if Bucky wasn’t so sure that Tony couldn’t be seduced away from him. He kept him pretty well satisfied, and also Tony was... sort of stupid when it came to people who liked him flirting earnestly. “Well, he should get to show off. He’s like a fairy. If he doesn’t get enough attention, he’ll die.”

“Huh,” Tony asked, bewildered. “What the hell does that mean? I feel like I would have preferred to be called a slur.”

Bucky was not going to explain Peter Pan to him when he was halfway naked. He put a hand to his lower back and launched him forward. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m concerned,” Tony continued, arms pinwheeling so he wouldn't fall, but he also caught himself on the next step and took a moment to preen before he began a very smug strut around the room.

“It’s weird that you can have questions and walk around like you don’t,” Bruce admitted, even as he obediently turned to watch him and clapped when Tony turned and strutted back past him.

Clint pointed at Tony with a breadstick. “I think that’s just rich people shit. They all walk like that at galas and stuff.”

“Those panties are very becoming on you, Tony,” Thor offered, taking his hand so Tony could do a spin in place. “The lace is obviously handmade.”

“Huh?” Sam yelped, then moaned and covered his face. “Don’t tell me how much they were.”

“That would be gauche,” Tony scoffed, even as he turned on one heel and went strutting the other way. Bucky waved a hand at him, and he obediently pulled the hem of his shirt up to show off the panties more. “If you guys ever want to test your card-counting ability against Bucky’s, just say the word, and I’m ready to strip.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Natasha informed him, but she couldn’t quite temper all the fondness from it. She reached out to run her thumb over the top hem of his panties and gave a surprised but pleased hum at the quality. Distracted, she added, “Only if I can get Sam to be my Doll.”

Sam glanced at her sourly, still sulking about nearly being eaten by a Doberman to distract the guards so she could get in. “I’m gonna wear my ugliest underwear if you make me do that.”

“Boo, you have beautiful muscles, Sam,” Tony informed him, stepping away from Natasha so he could do another loop around the couches. “We could kiss a little. Make everyone jealous.”

Sam scowled at him, but it quickly faded into a thoughtful squint. “…Well, if it would make everyone jealous.”

Steve said nothing, eyes glued to Tony's ass. Bucky was torn between thumping him and joking that if he wanted to sketch Tony, all he had to do was ask. There was something in his blank expression that filled him with dread, though. Bucky took a step toward Tony, suddenly feeling hunted. Before he could say anything though, Steve stood, eyes on Bucky, face stony. The muscle that wordlessly signified his annoyance was ticking in his jaw. His hands curled into fists. Bucky shifted his weight back and forth nervously.

“Do you remember when we were roommates right out of the army,” Steve began, taking one very deliberate step toward him.

Bucky did, and he suddenly remembered why he’d happily agreed to Sam living with them even though he’d had his reservations about him at the time. He held his hands up in supplication. “Listen, this is different. Tony’s different. Steve please don’t kill me in front of him—”

“Remember how I told you I’d kill you if I had to watch one more person come out of your room with a teeth-shaped bruise on their ass?” Steve continued, rolling up his sleeves.

Bucky barely had time to scream before Steve lunged at him, trying to dodge out of the way. Steve got him in a choke-hold though, and he scrabbled uselessly at his arm.

“Huh, so he’s just always been like this,” Tony mused thoughtfully, coming to a stop by Thor as he watched them.

Thor tipped his head back to frown up at him as Bucky finally twisted, bringing Steve onto the ground with him so they could scuffle properly. “Are you going to help him, or…”

Tony scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, my job is to look pretty and pay for things. If they break any furniture, though, I am going to be very upset.”

They were getting rather close to the coffee table, and it scared Bucky enough that he finally twisted, flipping Steve onto his back. He dropped elbow-first into his gut just for good measure.

Natasha watched, looking vaguely interested, then turned back to Tony. “What do you see in this guy, anyway?”

Tony shrugged. “When you guys told him to flirt with me, he came in hot with ‘sit on my face and break my neck so I die happy,’ and I’m easy.”

“Tony no,” Bucky gasped, horrified, but it was too late.

Steve sat up as if he wasn't even holding him down, expression thunderous, and Bucky barely had time to yelp before he was pinned to the ground again. “He was not supposed to flirt with you. In fact, he wasn’t supposed to be there at all.”

“I was backing up Natasha,” Bucky choked out, even though it was a lie. Natasha had had everything well in hand, and Bucky had simply been mesmerized by Tony's amused smile as he handed over a USB to her when he realized she was trying to steal files about Obadiah Stane for someone’s lawsuit against him.

“I didn’t need backing up,” Natasha told him sternly, then sighed and rolled her eyes at Tony, unimpressed. “Will you do something before Steve kills him and feels bad?”

“I won’t,” Steve barked as Bucky began slapping along his arms and shoulders. “I hope he dies. I deserve this.”

Tony tsked and rolled his eyes again. “Fine. But I expect a garlic knot and a piece of veggie pizza when I get up for breakfast in the morning.”

Clint reached forward and obediently shut the box with the veggie pizza in it. “Done.”

“You guys are so obedient when you’re not breaking laws,” Tony huffed fondly, shaking his head, but then Steve got Bucky in a position to choke him again. Bucky made a very dramatic and genuinely frightened noise, because he was only ninety-percent sure Steve wouldn’t actually kill him, and that ten percent uncertainty was scaring him. Tony stared at him for a moment, then sighed and began toward the bedroom again. “I’ll let you put a bite mark on the other side.”

Bucky paused as the words registered. Luckily, Steve had paused as well, apparently so shocked that he had to figure out his next move. Bucky took the chance to wedge his arm under Steve's hip and throw with all his might. Once he was free, he didn't look back, rushing up behind Tony to the comical sound of Steve yelping and two hundred pounds of beefcake hitting the floor six feet away from where they’d originally been sitting. Tony didn’t yelp as Bucky scooped him up into his arms, but he figured that that was because Tony had been expecting it. It had probably taken him a few seconds longer than Tony had expected. But then, Steve had had him pretty successfully pinned.

“Don’t bother us until tomorrow,” Bucky tossed over his shoulder, harried.

“If you kill Bucky, I’ll be very upset,” Tony added, mostly to Steve, but also in general. “Also I’m still calling Doom. You can’t stop me.”

“God, things used to be so simple,” Steve sighed, just before Bucky slammed the door behind them.